The Facts of Life Meet Mr. Right
by Cassandra Elise
Summary: THE FINALE is HERE! I'd appreciate any reviews. Sorry, you'll have to sign in. I apologize for the EXTREMELY LONG wait!
1. Scene One

The   
Facts   
Of Life  
Meet Mr. Right   
  
  
Scene One  
  
  
Edna's Edibles, the special deli, had just finished it's long lunch hour. Now business was  
slowing down for the afternoon, and the workers could relax, which is something they wanted to  
do on a Saturday.   
  
A young woman, with curly brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail, was intently wiping the tables  
clean. She didn't even look up from her work when her gorgeous companion yelped out in pain.  
  
"Oh phooey," cried the beautiful woman. "I broke a nail." She immediately stopped her job of  
opening up crates of jams and preserves.  
  
The brunette finally glanced up and exclaimed sarcastically, "Wow, it's a national tragedy! Blair  
Warner has broken a nail! What, is that the fifth time you've done that in your life?"  
  
"No, it's more like the fiftieth time, Jo" the girl named Blair corrected her friend. "If I didn't  
have to slave all day, maybe this wouldn't happen!"  
  
"If you didn't get your nails done this wouldn't happen," Jo pointed out. "Ah, go back to opening  
your boxes." Jo slowly surveyed the shop and noticed for the first time that her two younger  
friends were missing. "Where's Tootie and Natalie?"  
  
"Mrs. Garrett asked them to go on a few errands for her, but they should be back by now," was  
Blair's response.  
  
Just then, an African American girl burst through the front door. "You'll never guessed what we  
heard!" she cried ecstatically.  
  
"What, Tootie?" Blair excitedly inquired.  
  
Another teenager entered the shop and butted in, "We heard it at the Post Office, and then down  
at the convenience store. It is the best thing to happen to us since Mrs. Garrett opened up Edna's  
Edibles!"  
  
"Spill the beans, Natalie," Jo demanded impatiently.  
  
Natalie complied Jo's demand and said, "Paul Monroe is coming to live in our small town of   
Peakskill!" She, followed by Tootie and Blair, began shrieking.  
  
Jo waited for the screeching to subside. "That's great who is he?"  
  
"Paul Monroe is the famous Broadway producer, director, and songwriter. His recent musical  
which he wrote, produced, directed and composed the songs for, is a wonderful success." Tootie  
sighed before adding, "He originally came from Great Britain, but now he lives in New York  
City."  
  
"He sounds like an egotist," commented Jo. She smiled and couldn't resist saying, "He and Blair  
are two of a kind."  
  
Blair shook her head of blonde hair proudly and stuck her nose high in the air.  
  
"Paul Monroe is a genius in every regard," Natalie remarked.  
  
"A genius?" Jo repeated. "Well, I guess Blair isn't like him after all."  
  
"I'm much smarter than you, you grease monkey," Blair informed Jo condescendingly.  
  
Jo marched over to Blair and stood face to face with her. "If that's so, why is it that I was named  
valedictorian of Eastland and you weren't?"  
  
"It probably was an unfortunate mistake, but I'm not too concerned about it." Blair glided across  
the floor and stood behind the shop counter. "I'm a college woman now and must put silly  
highschool days behind me."  
  
Jo made a disgusted face and recommenced her table washing.   
  
During the course of the argument, Natalie and Tootie had put on aprons and were likewise busy  
in the shop. Tootie leaned on her broom and announced, "We're gonna have to get Paul into the  
store somehow."  
  
Natalie stopped arranging one of the many food shelves to turn to look at her younger friend.  
"How do you propose to do that, Tootie? Put big up billboards all over town that say, 'Edna's  
Edibles is the place for Broadway producers, directors, and songwriters'? You might as well  
make a billboard that says, 'Paul Monroe, you are wanted at Edna's Edibles.'"  
  
Tootie ignored the sarcastic tone in Natalie's voice and replied, "I don't care how I'm gonna do  
it, but he's got to come in here. This is my chance to become a world famous actress." Knowing  
what effect the next sentence would have on her friend, she added, "Just think how grand it will  
be when I star in the play you wrote and that Paul Monroe produced and directed. We'll both be  
famous."  
  
Natalie grinned and agreed with her. "That does it; I'm going to get all of my plays together, so  
they can be ready when Paul Monroe arrives!"  
  
Jo checked Natalie by reminding her, "Natalie, you're a journalist. You haven't written any  
plays."  
  
"Don't bother me with trifles, Jo." Natalie scampered out of the shop through the back door  
which led to the area where all the girls and their benefactress, Mrs. Garrett, lived.  
  
"Isn't this wonderful?" Blair walked around from the counter and put her two arms around  
Tootie and Jo. "Tootie will become a star when Paul meets her, Natalie will become a famous  
playwright, and I will become Paul's wife. Jo will remain in Peakskill, away from the rest of us,  
and we'll all be happy."  
  
Jo shrugged of Blair's arm and challenged, "How do you know he'll fall for you, Blair?"  
  
"That's right," Tootie agreed, "he may go for Natalie or . . . ME."  
  
"Why, no one can resist my charm, so Paul will inevitably be putty in my hand." Blair batted her  
eye lashes, sighing with contentment.   
  
An older woman entered from the kitchen, carrying two trays of freshly baked chocolate cookies.  
"There, that's the last of them," she crowed triumphantly. "My, the customers certainly do go for  
my cookies." She noted the silence which had settled on the girls and asked, "Who did what to  
whom, now?"  
  
"It's all right, Mrs. Garrett," Blair informed her. "Jo and Tootie are just getting over the shock of  
being rejected."  
  
"I don't get it." Mrs. Garrett glanced at each of the girls, but she didn't get one bit of information  
from any of them.  
  
Natalie reentered with several journals and folders. "This about covers all the subjects  
imaginable. Oh, hi, Mrs. Garrett. We're getting ready for when Paul Monroe comes to the shop."  
  
"Paul Monroe is coming to my shop! Well, what should I wear?" Mrs. Garrett placed her hands  
on her face, a look of horror quickly spreading.  
  
"Well, it's not definite yet," Tootie consoled her. As she uttered the last word, the shop door  
swung open.   
  
A man of about twenty-five years of age entered and examined the shop curiously. His brown  
puppy dog eyes seemed to dance, and the girls all noted his killer smile. His dark brown hair  
could almost be mistaken for black, and his muscular frame was clothed in a tight white tee shirt,  
a sports jacket, and jeans.   
  
"Excuse me," he spoke in a distinctly British accent, "Is this the famous Edna's Edibles that my  
friends so rave about?"  
  
"Tootie squeaked, Natalie stuttered, Blair smiled, and Jo continued washing the tables. Mrs.  
Garrett cleared her throat nervously and replied, "Yes, it is, young man, and what can I do for  
you?"  
  
"Well, one of my friends told me that if I got anything, I had to get some of Edna Garrett's  
famous chocolate chip cookies. Another friend insisted I get Edna Garrett's delicious quiche."  
  
"Well, I'm Edna Garrett and I thank your friends for the compliments. So what will you have?"  
Mrs. Garrett stood behind the counter, waiting expectantly.   
  
"I'll have both if you don't mind, and a cup of coffee, too."  
  
Mrs. Garrett began ringing up the sale. "A very wise chose, Mr. . . ."  
  
"The name's Monroe, Paul Monroe." The man reached into his pocket for his wallet, not even  
noticing the three star-struck girls behind him.  
  
Tootie finally found her tongue and exclaimed, "Hi, I'm Dorothy Ramsey, but my friends call me  
Tootie." Paul turned to smile at her, and she felt her knees giving way.  
  
Not wanting to be out of the spotlight, Natalie quickly said, "I'm Natalie Green, and if you need a  
good doctor just call on my dad."  
  
Paul seemed a bit taken aback at this comment, but he thanked her cordially. He paid Mrs.  
Garrett, got his food, and found a seat at one of the dryer tables.  
  
"Jo, haven't you washed the tables enough?" Mrs. Garrett asked nervously.  
  
Jo walked into the kitchen with her rag, conscious of Paul Monroe's big eyes staring at her.  
When she returned, she was grateful to know that he was now looking at his food.   
  
Paul bit into the quiche tentatively and exclaimed, "My friend was wrong when he described  
your food, Mrs. Garrett!"  
  
"Oh?" Mrs. Garrett looked ready to bolt for the door if the need arose.  
  
"It's ten times better." Paul smiled as all the ladies breathed sighs of relief.  
  
As he ate, Blair turned to Jo, Natalie, and Tootie and proclaimed, "Just watch me put my charm  
and beauty into action, girls." She sat down next to him and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.  
"I'm Blair Warner, one of THE Warners of America."  
  
"I've never heard of you." Paul continued eating much to the chagrin of the much insulted Blair.  
  
"I realize that you want to keep publicity low, so I won't tell a word of who you are." Blair  
waited for an appropriate response, which she received promptly.  
  
"Thank you Blair, and if you don't mind, I'd like to eat in peace."  
  
Blair rose from the table, a look of pure embarrassment spread all over her countenance.  
  
Jo smiled widely. "Nothing like watching you put your charm and beauty into action." She  
smiled even wider when Blair marched huffily into the kitchen.   
  
Mrs. Garrett realized that Tootie and Natalie were staring fixatedly at Paul. She cleared her throat  
emphatically and they comprehended the message. They commenced their little tasks, still  
glancing admiringly at Paul every once and awhile. Jo turned to finish emptying the crates that  
Blair had abandoned earlier, but Paul checked her.  
  
"You never told me your name."  
  
Jo almost flushed as she responded, "Oh yeah, um, it's Jo . . . Jo Polniaczek."   
  
"Are you Polish by any chance?"  
  
"I'm half Polish and half Italian."  
  
"You must have quite a temper, Jo. Remind me never to get you angry."   
  
Jo laughed good-naturedly and placed some strawberry preserves on the proper shelf. She was  
surprised to find Natalie and Tootie staring at her, mouths agape. "What's the matter with me?"  
she demanded.  
  
"Paul Monroe is standing before you, and all you can think of talking about is your temper?"  
Natalie whispered in exasperation.  
  
"What do you want me to do; discuss politics?"   
  
"Never mind, Jo; we'll talk to him." Tootie stepped eagerly over to Paul, but he had stood to  
leave.  
  
"Mrs. Garrett, do you cater for parties?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, we do, and we haven't had one complaint yet." Mrs. Garrett beamed proudly at the  
handsome man.  
  
"I would be very grateful if you would cater a little get together I'm having next Saturday. It's  
sort of a going away party my New Yorker friends wanted me to give before I moved to  
Peakskill. Do you think you could do it?"  
  
"Why, we'd be delighted to cater your party!" Mrs. Garrett exclaimed over the enraptured gasps  
of her staff. "Is there any particular theme you're going with?"  
  
"No; just make good ole American dishes and hors d'oeuvre, and some Vegetarian delicacies.  
I've got a lot of friends that are Vegetarians, and I'm sort of a Vegetarian, myself. I don't eat red  
meat and pork, you know."  
  
Mrs. Garrett hadn't known this information, but she politely nodded.  
  
"Here are instructions to my apartment in Manhattan, and here is my phone number." Paul  
handed her several slips of creased paper. "I'll get in touch with you later, O.K.?" He sauntered  
confidently to the door, swerved, and addressed the nearest girl, the grinning Natalie. "Keep  
smiling, love." Then he exited Edna's Edibles, leaving four extremely enthralled woman.  
  
Natalie gave a sigh of deepest pleasure and exclaimed, "Oh wow, I think I'm in love. Tell me, do  
I look different?"  
  
Mrs. Garrett examined her warily. "Light brown hair, brown eyes; you're the same old Natalie I  
know."  
  
Natalie ignored this comment and announced, "Blair was absolutely wrong; I'm sure Paul likes  
me the best."  
  
"I was under the impression he liked me the best!" Tootie protested sulkily.  
  
"Girls, you're both wrong," Mrs. Garrett declared. "He like me the best," she joked, smiling  
widely. "Now, when you're done with your chores, girls, join me in the kitchen for a staff  
meeting. We have to decide on the proper food for Mr. Monroe's party."   
  
Natalie watched as Mrs. Garrett quitted the room, then said, "I don't care what we make for his  
party, as long as I get to see him again."  
  
"Well, I'm just glad he didn't take a liking to Blair," admitted Jo.  
  
Tootie smiled mischievously. "Oh, and could that be because "  
  
"Whatever it is, Tootie, the answer's, 'no.'"   
  
"I was just gonna ask if you liked him, too," Tootie commented pitifully.  
  
"Tootie, I didn't know that!" Jo cried, softening a bit. Suddenly, she toughened up again and  
added, "And the answer is still a big fat, 'no.' I have no desire to fall on love with a wealthy,  
talented, and handsome man."  
  
"You and Blair are both so prejudice. You think all rich people are unworthy of notice, and Blair  
thinks all poor people aren't worth it." Tootie shook her head and went into the kitchen.  
  
"You don't have to like Paul, Jo," Natalie consoled her. "It'll mean less competition for me!"  
She ran into the kitchen, leaving Jo alone, rolling her eyes.  
  
To Be Continued!  
  
Please Review and tell me if I should continue. 


	2. Scene Two

Scene Two  
  
  
"Jo, where are you?" Tootie called anxiously.   
  
The girls, excluding Jo, were standing in the living room of their home, waiting for Jo to finish dressing for the party. Mrs. Garrett was busily loading her car with delectable appetizers and entrees. The girls were supposed to be helping Mrs. Garrett, but they had decided to examine Jo's apparel before lending a hand to their surrogate mother.  
  
Finally the sound of clumping footsteps resounded through the house. Jo appeared a moment later attired in he green army suit. The girls' mouths all grew agape at the sight of her.  
  
"Jo you can't " Blair began desperately.  
  
"Wear that thing " Tootie interrupted her friend.  
  
"To the party," Natalie grimly concluded.  
  
Jo glanced strangely at her three comrades. "Were you rehearsing that speech while I was upstairs?"  
  
"This is a very serious matter," Tootie explained defensively.  
  
"We are going to see that cute guy from the shop, PAUL MONROE does the name ring a bell?" When Jo made no reply, Natalie threw up her hands in exasperation.  
  
"I know we're seeing Paul Monroe, but what does that have to do with my clothes?" Jo finally answered.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed we are all wearing dresses or nice blouses and skirts," Blair remarked dryly. "Everyone will be dressed in fancy attire, and you will stick out like a sore thumb."  
  
Hey, I'm wearing camouflage clothes," Jo declared lightly. "From the way I see it, I'll blend in pretty well." She laughed at her own joke, but the other girls were not entirely amused. Jo sobered up enough to add, "Look, I'll change if it will make you happy. Now go help Mrs. G. with the stuff, ok?"  
  
The girls all smiled brightly at this proposition and were about to leave the room, when Mrs. Garrett came in puffing, utterly exhausted. She surveyed the lot and commented in exasperation, "I thought somebody was going to help me! What on earth happened?"  
  
"We had a sort of dilemma, but it's all straightened out now," Blair replied sheepishly.  
  
"Well, get in the car and let's hurry." Mrs. Garrett dashed out of the room as fast her legs would permit her.  
  
Soon the whole gang was driving merrily down the road in their two automobiles. In one and a half hours, after battling heavy New York traffic, they finally reached Paul's penthouse, or "apartment" as Paul had called it. They scurried into the building, and after a little quibble with the desk receptionist, who was sure they were just fans who were trying to sneak a glimpse of their hero, they were in the elevator.  
  
With her hands free from all packages of food, Blair rang the doorbell.   
  
Paul answered accordingly, looking debonair in his fancy green shirt and khaki corduroy pants. "Hi, just come right in."  
  
"Tootie," Natalie whispered to her friend, "he's so handsome, I swear I'm going to faint."  
  
"Well, don't expect me to catch you, cause my hands are full." Tootie pranced confidently into the penthouse.  
  
Paul noticed that Natalie and Jo were struggling with their heavy loads. "Here, let me help you with that." Paul advanced toward the two, and as Natalie smiled cheerfully, he grabbed Jo's load.  
  
Natalie turned a devastated eye on Jo, who inquired, "What's the matter; you look kinda green."  
  
"I'm just trying to live up to my name," Natalie replied despondently. They entered the flat and soon were situated around a large marble counter in his kitchen.  
  
Mrs. Garrett flew around the room, shoving a certain dish into the oven to heat it a bit. She then solicited Jo's service in arranging the vegetable and dip platters and the fruit platters on one of the tables in the spacious living room. Jo complied her request and soon was trying to set up the asparagus and broccoli in a certain way so that they looked appealing.  
  
Paul smiled at all the little green plants and asked Jo, "How did you know that I love asparagus?"  
  
"Mrs. G. heard that Brits liked that stuff. I prefer artichokes, but that's just me." Jo was about to wipe her hand on the side of her leg, but she remembered in the nick of time that she was attired in the pink skirt and blouse she had worn on her graduation day. "Well, I gotta go back to the kitchen." Jo smiled and almost ran into the kitchen door.   
  
"Watch out for those kitchen doors," Paul warned a little late. "They'll get you every time." He winked and walked over to the band which he had managed to fit into the living room along with the serving tables and folding chairs.  
  
Jo tried not to blush warmly as she entered the kitchen, but Blair immediately saw it. Not thinking that Paul might be the cause of it, she said, "Jo, that pink in your blouse really brings color to your cheeks. You actually look like a girl for once!"  
  
Jo clenched her teeth and fist and retorted, "And I can always arrange it so that you look like a Picasso picture." She raised her fist menacingly in front of Blair's very beautiful face.  
  
"Come to think of it," Blair began nervously, "You always look feminine."  
  
"Feminine?" Jo repeated, even more annoyed if it was possible.  
  
"Fresh, you always look so fresh." Blair found it necessary to leave the room with two casserole dishes of Mrs. Garrett's quiche. Halfway to the table, she nearly dropped one.  
  
"Blair, you look like you need help," Paul observed brightly.  
  
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do," Blair tried to smile flirtatiously as she held on to the two dishes.  
  
Paul smiled equally as flirtatiously, but he looked over his shoulder. "Gregory, come here and help Blair," he called to the leader of the band.  
  
A tall man of twenty three years approached her and deftly grabbed the dishes and placed them on the table. Blair tried to hide her disappointment as she thanked the man. Then she hurried back to the kitchen.  
  
Jo noted Blair's flustered appearance and remarked, "Did you have a bit of trouble with the quiches?"   
  
Blair tried to smile warmly as she answered, "Whatever gave you that idea?"  
  
"Nothing . . . I just thought I noticed you dropping the dishes and some nice guy coming to rescue you a guy who wasn't Paul Monroe."  
  
"Oh, is this so, Blair?" Natalie asked curiously. "Is Paul Monroe giving you the brush off?" She smiled teasingly at the blushing Blair.   
  
Blair wasn't one to be daunted. She walked over to Tootie, who was testing some of the entrees to make sure they were warm enough. "That Paul is a hoot. He acted like he was going to help me himself and then he sent some band leader named Gregory over to assist me instead. He certainly likes me a lot if he's bent on teasing me in this fashion." She primped her hair and added, "Yes, he certainly is hooked on moi!"  
  
"So unfortunate for vous!" Tootie informed Natalie.   
  
"That's enough of this chitchatting, girls. We have a party to cater!" Mrs. Garrett took several casserole dishes out to the living room.  
  
A little while later, Paul addressed the whole Edna's Edibles crew. "I'm so glad that you could all make it for my little fete. This party is a casual affair, so I'm sure you will feel right at home. While you're not busy with serving, feel free to mingle with the whole crowd and make some friends. I hope by the time the party ends you all will be friends with me," Paul gazed directly at Jo as he continued, "Maybe even more than friends."  
  
Blair, Natalie, Tootie, and Mrs. Garrett turned to stare at Jo. Jo crossed her arms almost defiantly, but a look of discomfort was spread across her face. However, she was resolved on ignoring the last remark even if it killed her. Jo swerved 180 degrees and marched determinedly to her post at the serving tables.  
  
It was difficult to keep to her resolution, but Jo managed to avoid contact with Paul Monroe. Her friends were a tremendous help, for every time Paul looked ready to approach her, Natalie, Tootie, or Blair would sweep him aside.  
  
"Paul," Natalie began, one of the many times she had grabbed Paul for herself. "Do you believe in the Fates?"  
  
"No, I don't, actually," he admitted.  
  
"You shouldn't have said that! The Fates can hear you!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Nat, but I've gotta go." Paul wove through the massive throng of people and smoke and met with Gregory, the band leader.  
  
Natalie frowned, and was about to follow him when she noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring laughingly at her. "What on earth are you staring at?"  
  
"You are trying so hard to get Paul's attention that you don't realize how utterly ridiculous you look," replied the owner of the eyes. "My name is Lennard Winston, but they all call me Lenny."  
  
"I wasn't trying to get Paul's attention," Natalie retorted defensively. "I had his attention until he was urgently called away."  
  
"Yes, he certainly was called away." Lenny motioned to Paul, who was now dancing quite distractedly with Tootie!  
  
"Tootie, my best friend! I never thought she would betray me!" Natalie cried. "Oh the Fates are cruel!"  
  
"You know, I believe that the fates are working for me. I think they wanted me to meet you tonight."  
  
"Oh?" Natalie prodded, positively pleased with this compliment. When Lenny merely simpered in reply, she added, "Well, I'm sure the Fates will understand me getting a punch of cup and leaving you alone."  
  
"The phrase is cup of punch."  
  
"Oh, who cares?" Natalie snapped in exasperation. She scurried out of Lenny's view, hoping he didn't notice how embarrassed and annoyed she was.  
  
Tootie surveyed her friend fleeing from a somewhat attractive man and asked Paul, "Who is that man Natalie was talking to?"  
  
"He's one of my dear friends, but even so, I should warn Natalie about his notorious reputation."  
  
"Is he sly with the women?" Tootie asked eagerly.  
  
"No, he's just gotten the reputation of being a nutcase." Paul excused himself and caught up with the slurping Natalie.   
  
"You shouldn't hang about Lennard Winston."  
  
"You're a fine one to talk. Who's the one who left me sitting on the sofa, with no fellow to dance with, while the soft music blared out of the stereos. It was an utterly degrading experience. And then, my best friend double crosses me by dancing with you! I feel like I'm being punished for past misdeeds."  
  
Paul stifled a laugh at her remorseful tirade. "Just stay away from Lenny; he's neurotic."  
  
Natalie's eyes lit up at that word and she pushed Paul aside. "Where is he?" she shrieked.  
  
"Don't worry, he's not around right now."  
  
"I want to find him, Paul!"  
  
"Didn't you listen to a word I said? He's bad for you!"  
  
"Let me be the judge of that!" Natalie interjected. "He's my soul-mate, I'm sure of it." She ran off and called over shoulder, "They don't call me, 'neurotic Nat,' for nothing."  
  
Blair came up behind Paul just as he was saying, "I don't get her at all."  
  
"She grows on you," Blair assured him.  
  
Tootie checked Natalie as she was rushing by.   
  
"Don't stop me now, Tootie, I've got to find my dream man for the year."  
  
"Paul Monroe is behind you, Nat."  
  
"Who cares about Paul Monroe!" Natalie replied promptly, and then she dashed off. Tootie gazed after her, completely bewildered.  
  
Meanwhile, Blair was busily trying to persuade Paul to go out with her. "There's this cute little French restaurant right in the heart of Manhattan that I'm sure you've heard of."  
  
"Is that the place where the French onion soup is the same price as a diamond ring?" Paul asked somewhat sarcastically.  
  
"That's the one," Blair giggled. "We could spend a quiet evening together and afterwards, you could introduce me to all of your famous friends."  
  
"I'm sorry, Blair, but I'm terribly busy right now. Maybe at another date I'll call you, and we can work something out." Paul hurried to the serving tables where Jo was studiously heaping large portions of everything onto the guests' plates.  
  
"You care for a little bite to eat?" she asked politely.  
  
"Sure, anything that isn't really heavy and isn't really meaty." Paul watched with interest as Jo chose certain foods for him. "Listen, you should be out enjoying yourself."  
  
"Nah, I'll just let the others have fun." She smiled nervously, trying to convince him that she was all right with the existing arrangement. "Besides, Mrs. G. is helping me, so everything's under control."  
  
"I don't see her."  
  
"She's in the kitchen, getting the desserts ready. Here's your food, and if you'll excuse me."  
  
With his free hand, Paul grabbed her arm. "Can't we talk or dance or something?"  
  
"You're busy eatin, and I'm busy with my things," Jo replied brusquely.  
  
"What's bothering you, Ms. Polniaczek? You've been giving me the cold shoulder, and I don't like it."  
  
"Nothing is wrong, you hear?"  
  
"Then why speak in such a nasty tone?"  
  
Jo figured that it was pointless to deny the fact any longer. She might as well tell him about her aversion to wealthy people and have it over with. It was upsetting in a way, since she was flattered that Paul seemed to like him, but it had to stop. Dating rich men was not her favorite thing. She had learned her lesson before with Bill.  
  
"I don't like rich people, ya understand." She broke free from his strong grip and marched into the kitchen.  
  
"Oh, that's fine," Paul yelled angrily, "because I can't abide snotty, poor little white girls!"  
  
Jo only needed to slam several pieces of fine silverware around in order for Mrs. Garrett to realize that something was wrong. "Why did Paul call you a poor white girl?"  
  
"Because I am poor, and rich and poor people don't mix."  
  
"I don't know about that. It is the Twentieth Century you know, not Medieval times, and I've seen how you and Blair get along."  
  
"Yeah, we hate each other."  
  
"No, I'm thinking about the times you've been there for each other, and cared for each other. It's all right to be proud of where you've come from, but don't let it interfere with making new friends. So he is wealthy, so what? Perhaps he's one of the meekest, kindest people around."  
  
"Mrs. G., I'm not proud of where I came from. Sure, I can admit I'm from the Bronx maybe with a little pride, but in a lot of ways, I'm very ashamed of my past."  
  
"Well, you shouldn't be ashamed of your past either. You've done nothing wrong."  
  
"I know I haven't, but what about my dad, a jailbird? Paul Monroe would certainly find that amusing, now wouldn't he?" As she said those words, Jo realized that she did admire Paul despite the fact that he was well to do. It was just herself who she was finding trouble liking. This little dilemma irked her more than the first.  
  
"Anyway, I screwed it up, so there's no point in your little speech," Jo proclaimed, trying to console herself as best as possible.  
  
"You could always apologize to him," Mrs. Garrett reminded her. She hefted a plate of chocolate cookies into her arms and quitted the room.  
  
Jo brought out a scrumptious cheesecake and placed it carefully on the table. She searched anxiously for any sign of Paul. She spotted Tootie, conversing with an attractive African American man. Jo also found Natalie laughing merrily with an impish sort of fellow.  
  
Finally she saw Paul, dancing with Blair. Blair spotted her and, waving a long hand flounced over to her. "I feel like I'm in Heaven! Paul has danced three waltzes with me now, and what a dancer he is!"  
  
"Dancing with you, Blair, has been like a dream," Paul complimented sweetly, his wrathful eyes planted firmly on Jo.  
  
"Yeah, like one continuous nightmare," Jo quipped.  
  
Blair frowned slightly at this direct insult but told Paul, "She always acts like this."  
  
"I've had previous encounter with her, so I'm quite aware of her rude behavior." Paul certainly was letting Jo know that he was very embittered about her remarks from earlier.   
  
"Look, I realize that you're mad at me," Jo began.  
  
"'Mad at you' is not the proper word." "I'm practically seething with unadulterated anger!"  
  
"That's a word you don't hear too often!" Jo commented nervously.  
  
"Paul, don't bother with her," Blair chided him. "So will you think of my offer?"  
  
"And what offer is this, Blair?" Jo demanded suspiciously.  
  
"Blair has kindly asked me to go on a date with her three times now." Paul noticed the twinge of jealousy in Jo's eyes and continued, "I'd hate to refuse you a fourth time, so yes, I'll go out with you, Blair!"  
  
"Will you take me to that little French restaurant?" Blair entreated.  
  
Paul smiled and said, "Let's not overdo it, dear. I'll take you to the best restaurant in Peekskill! Let's make the date for tomorrow evening, say, seven o'clock?"  
  
Blair started to leave but quickly announced, "You won't regret this!"  
  
Jo glared wrathfully at him before proclaiming, "I was going to apologize, but a person of your low virtue doesn't deserve any. That was a cheap trick, trying to make me jealous, and fooling Blair in the process. Well, you can forget it, because it won't work!"  
  
Paul realized his plan had been discovered, but instead of admitting to it, he asked, "Why would I want to make you jealous, Jo Polniaczek?" He brushed past her and disappeared into the din.  
  
Mrs. Garrett spotted Jo and couldn't help asking, "Did you get to apologize to Paul before he went off?"  
  
Jo turned a hurt face to her matron and declared as tough as she could manage, "As far as I'm concerned, there wasn't one thing I said to him that Paul Monroe, producer, director, etcetera, that he didn't need to hear."  
  
"You still won't give him a chance to prove himself?"  
  
"As I said earlier, upper and lower classes do not mix at all. It definitely isn't fair, but that's the way it is; and you either live with it, or you can clear out."   
  
Jo began to stalk away, but Mrs. Garrett checked her. "I wish you'd change your mind."  
  
"Sure, I'll change my mind . . . the day Paul Monroe shows up on a motorcycle, in leather gear." With that, Jo slunk into the shadows, leaving Mrs. Garrett utterly flustered.  
  
To Be Continued . . . 


	3. Scene Three

SCENE THREE  
  
Jo, Natalie, and Tootie were hurriedly making and baking pastries and other delicacies in Edna's Edibles' kitchen. Mrs. Garrett was happily serving her customers in the storefront, and Blair . . . Blair was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Natalie was grumbling about this as she messily squeezed the frosting onto a carrot cake. "She's supposed to be working right now."  
  
Tootie awkwardly rolled a piece of dough into a croissant shape. "She probably is trying to get extra beauty sleep since she was up till after three last night," she peevishly replied.   
  
"Correction, 'we' were up till three last night. The Little Princess does not get special privileges." Jo pounded her dough harder than was necessary.  
  
Mrs. Garrett entered, smiling broadly. "The customers certainly are hungry today." She surveyed the downcast faces of the three girls and exclaimed, "You don't have to be so dismal just because Blair is going out with Paul Monroe. There are other fish in the sea."  
  
"Mrs. Garrett, I don't want another fish; I want Paul," Tootie complained.  
  
"And I don't need a fish, 'caus I've got Lenny," Natalie informed her benefactress.  
  
"Well, if you insist," Mrs. Garrett stared pointedly at Jo as she uttered the sentence.  
  
"And I am definitely not sore about Blair going out with Paul." Jo glared at Mrs. Garrett until she had left the room.  
  
Blair strolled proudly into the kitchen, attired in a slinky dark blue dress with gauzy sleeves and skirt. "Here I am," she needlessly told them.  
  
"Is that your new work dress?" Tootie asked.  
  
"No, silly, this is the dress I'm wearing tonight for my date with Paul."  
  
"Sorry," spurted Jo, "I couldn't tell the difference!"  
  
"Jo, I believe that you're jealous!" When Jo didn't answer, Blair continued, "If you had told me you wanted a dress, I would have gladly bought you one. You would have looked marvelous in the black gown, not as marvelous as me-actually not remotely as marvelous as-"  
  
"Cut it Blair," demanded Jo, "and I'm not jealous because you have that frilly dress."  
  
"She's jealous because you're going out with Paul, and she's not," Tootie informed Blair much to the chagrin of Jo.  
  
"Can I help it that Paul had the good sense to choose a wealthy, famous, beautiful girl over a impoverish, filthy, ill-mannered one?" Blair waited expectantly for a chorus of "no's," but nobody dared to respond.  
  
Jo approached Blair, her flour covered fist raised threateningly. "How would you like me to fix it so that you have a broken arm and leg in time for your date?"  
  
"Get your dirty hand away from this dress!" Blair daintily laid one finger on Jo's shoulder, as if that could make her move.  
  
Jo angrily shoved Blair, and then turned aghast when she saw the ring of white flour now imprinted on Blair's sleeve.   
  
Blair showed wrathful eyes to her opponent. "How dare you push me? This flour might not come off!" She began calling Mrs. Garrett's name loudly, hoping the matronly woman would appear.  
  
Mrs. Garrett hurried into the kitchen, dreading the worst. She stared at Blair in alarm and asked, "What is going on, Blair?"  
  
"Jo got flour all over my new dress!"  
  
"Why were you wearing a dress in the kitchen to begin with?" Edna Garrett cried.   
  
"I just wanted to try it on before this evening, and then she had to push me with her filthy hands!" To demonstrate once more the atrocity, Blair brushed the same spot on her sleeve and was abashed to find that most of the flour was rubbing off.  
  
Mrs. Garrett stared at her, amused. The rest of the girls had similar looks plastered on their faces.  
  
"I think I'll go change into something a little more comfortable," Blair commented sheepishly as she made a dash for the door.  
  
Mrs. Garrett admonished Jo, "You know better than to touch anything when you've been baking. Now I don't want to hear anything more from you or Blair. Tootie, make sure they don't start any more arguments. Natalie, go tend to the customers, and I'll be along in a minute." Edna disappeared upstairs to make sure Blair got all the flour off the dress.   
  
Tootie placed several sheets of croissants into the oven, sighed with contentment, and went to join Natalie in the storefront. Jo, who likewise had finished her baking job, followed her. Jo situated herself behind the counter, handling the cash register. This left Natalie out of a job, but she quickly began answering the customers' questions as best as she could.   
  
All of a sudden, the distinct sound of a motorcycle reverberated through the building. "Hey, Jo, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!" Natalie joked.  
  
Tootie leisurely wandered to the window and glanced out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man on the bike. "Hey, he's kind of cute, if he would only remove his helmet." Suddenly Tootie's eyes popped out of their sockets.   
  
Natalie noted her astonished look and demanded, "Well, what's wrong?"  
  
"Yeah, who's my imaginary boyfriend?" Jo asked curiously as she stepped away from the counter. Mrs. Garrett came into the room and took over Jo's position.  
  
"It's not your boyfriend, Jo; it's Blair's," Tootie told her.  
  
"What do you mean?" Natalie asked, getting suspicious.  
  
Just then Paul Monroe entered, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a motorcycle helmet. "Hello, Mrs. Garrett; I couldn't keep away from your delicious food. I also wanted to take Blair for a ride on my bike."  
  
Each one of the girls stared agape at him and his apparel, but Jo was the most flabbergasted. She recalled her comment from yesterday about how she would only give Paul another chance if he showed up on a motorcycle and in leather gear. If she was going to live up to her word, it seemed she would have to now.  
  
Mrs. Garrett appeared to be thinking the same thing, for she asked Jo, "Wasn't there something you wanted to say to Paul?"  
  
Jo smiled awkwardly and exclaimed, "Oh, yeah, um, great jacket, Paul!"  
  
"Thank you, Joanna," Paul replied icily.  
  
"I didn't know you rode a bike. You see, I do, too!"  
  
Paul softened a bit and proclaimed, "Mine's a Harley Davidson."  
  
"Oh, and it's a 1979, if I'm not mistaken," Jo added.  
  
"You are completely right; that's amazing!" Paul was almost grinning as he spoke.   
  
Jo had mustered enough courage to apologize, "Paul, I have to tell you that," she watched as Blair stepped lightly into the room, "Blair's here!" She backed into the kitchen to let Blair have time with her prospective date and to get out of her own responsibility.  
  
"Paul how kind of you to come," Blair gushed until she saw his attire, "and you look like you've been hanging around Jo too much; how nice." Blair tried to smile, but found it very difficult. She brushed an imaginary fuzz from her designer jeans.  
  
"I didn't know Jo rode a motorcycle! Now we have one more thing in common!" Paul craned his neck, as if doing so would enable him to see through the kitchen door to where Jo was.  
  
"You ride a bike?" Blair asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yep, he sure does!" Tootie replied, gazing adoringly at him.  
  
"Just like Jo?" Blair desperately added.  
  
"Uh huh!" Natalie answered gleefully. "And you get to ride it with him!" Smirking, Natalie pushed her poor unprepared friend toward Paul.  
  
Blair nearly stumbled into Paul's unsuspecting arms. "I think I'll pass on that motorcycle ride this time, Paul. Just pick me up at seven for our date." She wrinkled her nose flirtatiously and waved her hand, indicating he should leave.  
  
Paul was only mildly disappointed, so he almost skipped to the door. "I'll see you then, Blair." He gazed once more at the kitchen door, then left.  
  
As soon as the door closed, Jo entered the room. "Well, we can rest in peace; Paul's gone."  
  
"Isn't that amazing how you magically appeared right after Paul left?" Natalie asked sarcastically. "You must've been eavesdropping."  
  
"I didn't hear on word of the conversation, except ... he wanted to take BLAIR on the motorcycle!" Jo began laughing uncontrollably at this.  
  
"I thought you said you weren't eavesdropping," Tootie asked, annoyed at her usually composed friend's giddy behavior.  
  
Jo immediately stopped laughing to reply, "All right, I lied, so sue me."  
  
"Just for your information, I could have gotten on that motorcycle if I had wanted to," Blair frostily informed Jo.  
  
"Yeah, but staying on would have been another thing," Jo returned. She chuckled again and this time Natalie joined in.   
  
"Or better yet, imagine Blair, asking Paul to pull over to the side of the road every few minutes so she can fix her hair!" Natalie interjected. This time Tootie was giggling along with the other two.  
  
"That's enough you three; Blair, I could use your help in the kitchen." Mrs. Garrett hastily wandered into the adjoining room. Blair was extremely eager to follow her.  
  
"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jo commented, disheartened at the sight of the victim of her verbal abuse leaving.  
  
"It's back to being listless and in love," Tootie announced as she cleared the tables.   
  
The humongous crowd had dispersed over the last few minutes, leaving the shop almost strangely empty. Natalie surveyed the abandoned store and exclaimed, "Do you think they didn't appreciate our jokes?"   
  
Neither Tootie nor Jo had the patience to answer her.  
  
***************  
  
Blair batted her eyelashes and smiled vainly at her reflection in her hand held mirror. "Hello, Gorgeous!" She examined the bedroom once before commencing her preening.  
  
Perched on her bed, Tootie looked up from her textbook and asked, "Are you practicing what to say to Paul when he arrives?"  
  
"Don't be pathetic," Jo muttered from her own bed. "The truth is she's just being her usual egotistical self."  
  
"I am not," Blair protested. "I'm merely stating the fact that I am gorgeous."  
  
"In other words, you're being your usual egotistical self," Jo repeated emphatically.  
  
"When should Paul get here?" Tootie asked with a little pout.  
  
"He should be here in about ten minutes. I have Natalie acting as a lookout for me. If he arrives she's supposed to run up the stairs and tell me."  
  
Just then Natalie entered, completely out of breath. She gasped a few times, made a few wild gesticulations, realized the futileness, and stopped.   
  
"Is he here?" Blair squealed as she hopped to her feet.  
  
Natalie tried to answer, but she couldn't get the words out.  
  
"He's early, isn't he?"  
  
Once more all Natalie could do was huff and puff.  
  
"Goodbye, girls, don't wait up for me." Blair dashed out of the room, giggling childishly.  
  
Finally Natalie regained her breath. "You're date is here, Blair," she cried in exasperation to no one. "It figures; I'm always late for everything."  
  
"Well, I'm going to remain calm and dignified during the whole time Blair's away," Tootie proclaimed. "There's no reason to get upset over your friend taking the man of your dreams from under your nose. I won't mention it at all except to say . . .why can't I go on a date with Paul?" Tootie began to wail most pitifully.  
  
"Don't cry, Tootie. Lenny's got a friend who'll be perfect for you." Natalie grinned as she perched herself proudly on the edge of Tootie's bed.  
  
Tootie gave Natalie a withering look. "That's supposed to be comforting?"  
  
"Well, that's the last time I'll ever do a favor for you!"  
  
Jo looked up from polishing her baseball glove. "I hope Paul gives Blair h-" She checked herself just in time from using the shocking word.  
  
"You hope he gives her heck?" Tootie repeated, using the euphemism.  
  
"How about Halifax in a hand basket?" Natalie suggested.  
  
"'Halifax in a hand basket' will suffice," Jo returned.  
  
******************  
  
Blair puffed her hair vainly and sighed contentedly.  
  
Paul glanced from behind his menu. "What's the matter, love?"  
  
"You are SO lucky! It's such a beautiful restaurant, and you, of course, have such beautiful date! Why, this must be heaven for you!"  
  
"Do you find me attractive, Blair?"  
  
"Well, you are a very handsome man, Paul Monroe! We are so suited for each other."  
  
"Um, Blair, I need to talk to you. You're here under false pretenses." Paul stopped and gazed steadfastly at Blair, hoping she wouldn't interrupt him. "I don't love you, and I hope you don't love me."  
  
Blair was taken aback by this earnest declaration. "Uh, Paul, I didn't realize that! I mean, I had my suspicions, but I really thought we had something special." She attempted to smile, but found it was to no avail.   
  
"In fact, I'm quite smitten with one of your friends."  
  
Blair had a pretty fair idea of whom he was speaking, but she pretended to be unaware of the situation. She laughed nervously and asked, "Surely you don't mean Natalie?"  
  
Paul shook his head and answered, "No, she's a bit too neurotic for me."  
  
"And I thought Tootie was a too young for you." Blair clasped her hands and giggled even more.  
  
"Yes, Tootie is a bit young for me."  
  
Blair's suspicions were confirmed as he finished speaking. In one last attempt, she said, "You can't mean Jo, could you?"  
  
Paul nodded slowly and deliberately. Blair's gorgeous face fell, and she began to moan.  
  
"She's so amazing, totally unlike the woman I thought I'd fall in love with!"  
  
Blair groaned even louder, "Tell me you didn't just admit that you love J-J-Jo!"  
  
"I did, didn't I?" Paul seemed to find this amazing himself. "I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings, Blair, for you know that's the last thing I'd want to do to a remarkable woman like you." He looked around himself and added, "I'm too uncomfortable to stay here."  
  
"I'm not that hungry myself, actually. Here, we'd better get home, so you can tell Jo the good news." Blair decorously stood up and waited patiently as Paul paid the check and escorted her to the door. She had enough composure not to weep at all on the journey home. Besides, Warners did not cry in front of strangers, especially strangers who had disgraced the Warner name. She simply sat there in an uneasy silence, dreading the embarrassment that would follow when Jo found out whom Paul really loved.   
  
To Be Continued . . . 


	4. Scene Four

Scene Four  
  
  
Natalie glanced at her watch for what seemed the hundredth time that evening. "I wonder when Blair and Paul will get back?" She began nervously pacing the living room floor.  
  
"Natalie," Mrs. Garrett began as she looked up from a pile of bills, "they've only been gone an hour and a half. Give them some time to eat!"  
  
"Besides, they may be gone for several hours; it just depends on the kind of date!" Tootie added intellectually.  
  
"What do you mean, 'kind of date'?" asked Natalie suspiciously.  
  
"Well, if you're going out with a person you hate, the date will last from one to two hours at the most. If you have a dinner engagement with a casual acquaintance or a friend, it will last two to three hours. And if you have a really hot date that evening, you could be out from eight at night to one in the morning!"  
  
Natalie seemed impressed by Tootie's earthly knowledge. "How do you know so much?"  
  
"I read it in Teen Magazine," was the prompt reply.  
  
Mrs. Garrett blinked several times, not amused by Tootie's dialogue. "Somehow I don't think Blair and Paul's date is going to last until one."  
  
"Why do you say that?" Tootie asked, curiosity getting the better of her.  
  
"Because Blair's curfew is eleven thirty." Mrs. Garrett gathered her bills together, stacked them neatly, and rose.  
  
"Hey, if you're really in love, what's to stop you?" Natalie asked jovially.  
  
Edna dismissed the romantic notion with a wave of her hand. She noted the two expectant girls and asked, "Where's Jo this fine evening?"  
  
"She's up in her room polishing her baseball glove," Natalie informed her.  
  
"It takes two hours to polish a piece of leather?" Mrs. Garrett asked, unconvinced.  
  
"It does when you're in love with Paul," Tootie pointed out.  
  
"I wish she would talk things over with Mr. Monroe." Mrs. Garrett shuffled slowly up the stairs and was met by Jo at the top.   
  
Jo stomped lazily down the first few steps, hopped on the banister, and slid down. She noticed her friends' flabbergasted gazes on her and demanded, "Haven't you ever seen a person do that before?"  
  
"Only in the movies," Tootie answered, her mouth still agape.  
  
Jo slouched into a chair, where she immediately began to sulk. Natalie rolled her eyes at the sight of her jealous friend and couldn't resist saying, "Jo, if you had wanted to sulk, you should've stayed upstairs."  
  
"Natalie, I don't want your advice," Jo began threateningly,   
  
"Then why did you come downstairs?" Natalie insisted.   
  
"All right, I'm leaving. I just came to see if Blair and her ever loving Prince Charming had returned." Jo rose to leave, feigning a nonchalant smile.   
  
Just at that moment, the front door flew open, and there stood Blair, a look of pure dread planted on her face.   
  
"Blair, you're home so early," Tootie commented unnecessarily.  
  
"The food was rotten, so we just decided to come home." Blair sheepishly stepped into the room, never taking her eyes off of Jo. She stopped, sighed, and began, "Actually, the whole date was a disaster."  
  
"There goes your hot date theory, Tootie," Natalie whispered audibly to her friend.  
  
Blair perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa. "It was the strangest and most unusual thing: there I was, ranting, making an absolute fool of myself!"  
  
"What's so unusual about that?" asked Jo with a smirk on her face. After receiving several angry glares, she mumbled an apology and sat down.  
  
"Paul finally interrupted me and told me-that-that he wasn't in love with me but with Jo!" Blair buried her heads in her hands, while Tootie and Natalie turned to stare astounded at Jo.  
  
A look of part relief part sympathy came across Jo's face. "I'm sorry that he hurt you, Blair! I was so certain that it was you who he liked the best. I mean, after the fight we had, I thought there was nothing to do to get him to like me again."  
  
"No, Jo, I was being my usual, vain self, thinking he could only fall for a gorgeous, perfect girl like me. I should have realized that some men don't like the extraordinary." Blair stood up to better see her comrade. "I guess the best girl won."  
  
"That's not true, cause if the best girl had won, you would still be with Paul." Jo gazed tearfully at Blair, hoping no one saw how upset she was, but it was two late. A big tear trickled slowly down her cheek. Hastily, she wiped it off.  
  
Blair put her hand on Jo's shoulder before remarking, "We both behaved abominably this time, huh Jo? I thought Paul could only love me, and you were so jealous, you started being rude to everyone else." Blair paused before adding thoughtfully, "Of course, you're always rude to everyone else."  
  
Jo tried to resist the impulse of slugging Blair in the face. She crossed her arms defiantly and announced, "Well, I take it Paul won't be visiting us anymore, so what's the use of quarreling?"  
  
"You mean he's gone for good?" Tootie's shoulders sagged considerably at the prospect of no more Paul Monroe.  
  
"You scared him off, Tootie," Natalie proclaimed pettishly.  
  
Blair began ascending the staircase, not heeding any of the noises below her. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed, and I might never get up again!"  
  
"I'll turn off all the lights," Jo offered. Her three friends seemed to relish this idea, for they quickly disappeared upstairs. Jo slowly flipped off the light switches and lamps that illuminated the living area. Just as she was about to head up to her room, there came a knock on the front door.  
  
Jo sighed as she turned on a solitary lamp, which would enable her to see the door. She jerked open the door to discover none other than Paul. "Oh, what seems to be the matter, Paul?"  
  
"Blair left her purse in my car, and I wanted to return it" Paul peered into the cozy room and asked, "May I come in for a moment?"  
  
Jo briefly hesitated before replying, "I see no harm in it; just make sure you don't stay too long." She stepped out of the way to emit Paul into the room. "Thanks for returning the purse, Paul," she began nervously.  
  
An uncomfortable silence ensued that was only shattered when Paul spoke. "I suppose Blair told you about the date fiasco." Jo nodded, and he continued, "I didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings; I guess I'm just not very good at this romance thing."  
  
"You didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings? What about you going out with Blair for the exact purpose of making me jealous?" Jo was certain Paul would have something to say to that, but all he did was shamefully bow his head and remain silent. "It makes me wonder why you did all this."  
  
"I'm in love with you Jo; that's why I made you jealous and ruined everyone's life."  
  
"That makes a lot of sense." Jo shook her head and quickly looked away. "There must be a better way of showing how you love me."  
  
"I've never been in love before, honest Jo! Look, I know that I've done plenty of rotten things, but I'm asking you to give me another chance." A thoughtful silence settled over the pair.  
  
Finally, Jo spoke, "I would love to give you another chance, Paul! After all, I am kind of fond of you." Jo smiled for a split second before extending her hand to him.  
  
Taking hold of her hand, Paul began to grin. "Does this mean I can kiss you?"  
  
"Don't press your luck." Jo positioned herself in her tough girl stance, which meant she crossed her arms and stood with her feet apart.  
  
"How about if we go out to dinner tomorrow at seven?"  
  
"I'd love to, just as long as we don't go to any fancy French restaurant."  
  
Paul merely smiled in response.   
  
"Well, I have to be getting to bed," Jo announced as she backed bashfully away from Paul.   
  
"You know, I've never seen the upstairs of your little house. How about you giving me a tour?" Paul gazed at her provocatively.  
  
"How about you leaving the house now." Jo approached Paul and shoved him gently yet firmly out the door. She shook her head at his suggestive remark, but she couldn't resist smiling. She finally had a date with Paul Monroe!  
  
  
  
Natalie once more was pacing the living room floor. Tootie was reading her Teen magazine, and Blair was doing her homework, making sure to sigh every once in a while to make it clear that she was still upset about losing Paul to Jo. Mrs. Garrett was the only one to pay attention to Blair's melodramatic behavior, and that was mainly because whenever Blair sighed it was impossible to concentrate on bills.  
  
Finally Jo entered the house, laughing cheerfully, as if she had just finished sharing a good joke with Paul. She whipped off her coat, hung it in the closet, and called, "Paul and I had a wonderful time."  
  
"From the way you were laughing I'd thought you and Paul had broken off your relationship," Blair replied sarcastically, something that was very not like Blair.  
  
"So tell us all the juicy details," Tootie prodded, tossing her magazine aside.  
  
"There are no juicy details, Tootie" Jo informed her expectant friend. "We went to the pizza parlor and had a few laughs."  
  
"And then what happened?" Natalie inquired eagerly.  
  
"And then we went to the arcade and had some more laughs."  
  
"You took a millionaire to an arcade?" Blair demanded.   
  
"Yeah, and he actually enjoyed it!" Jo countered.  
  
"What is this world coming to?" Blair threw up her hands in despair.  
  
"And then what happened, Jo?" Natalie persisted.  
  
Jo stared quizzically at her friend before replying, "And then he took me home."  
  
"That's it?" Natalie shouted. "Where's the declaration of love, the romantic walk in the moonlight, the passionate kiss?"  
  
"In other words, 'the good stuff.'" Tootie explained.  
  
"Hey, I'm not ready to get that romantic with the guy. When the time comes, if ever, I will tell you . . . maybe." Jo shrugged her shoulders and turned to go up to her room. "By the way, we're going for a ride on his motorcycle tomorrow afternoon, so I won't be here to help you close shop Mrs. G." With this last comment, Jo bounded happily up the stairs.  
  
  
The next afternoon, Jo went out with Paul as planned. When they returned to Edna's Edibles, the shop was closed and the house seemed to be deserted. Jo invited Paul in for a few minutes, and he readily accepted.  
  
"Well, I had a wonderful time, Paul," Jo began.  
  
"The last two days have been great, and it's all because of you." Paul leaned toward Jo, ready to kiss her. Soon their lips were touching, locking in an innocent, little kiss. Paul presently broke free and remarked, "I'd better be going. Will I see you tomorrow?"  
  
"You bet." Jo watched him leave, feigning a detached look, but inside she was bubbling over with excitement. She giggled as she plopped herself onto the sofa.  
  
That's when she heard laughter from the kitchen. "Paul and Jo are in LOVE!" Jo heard Tootie's voice say. All three of her friends, plus Mrs. Garrett, entered the room.  
  
"You guys were spying, how unfair!" Jo shook her head, but she was smiling sheepishly.  
  
"Well, you didn't think I'd leave you alone when you had a man with you, did you?" Mrs. Garrett asked, a twinkle in her eye.  
  
"I have to admit, for being a girl from the Bronx, you're doing quite all right where men are concerned." Blair remarked.  
  
In response, Jo proceeded to toss one of the sofa's pillows at her companions.   
  
Natalie caught it, put it back in its right place, and sat down next to Jo. "So, besides the kissing, what happened on your date?"  
  
As Jo began describing her date, Tootie, Blair, and Mrs. Garrett walked over to her. The happy group continued to chat and laugh long into the night.  
  
  
The End 


End file.
